


One on One

by flowersforgraves



Category: The Rat Patrol
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 00:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20573114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: Between an abandoned home base and a changing map, Hitch and Tully can't find their way back.





	One on One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aquatics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquatics/gifts).

The camp looks empty.

Nothing seems to be amiss -- no air raid siren blaring, no signs of a struggle, no indication that they'd needed to bug out. The camp is just… empty. There's still paperwork out on desks, weighted down with rocks. There's still food cooling on plates in the mess tent, solidifying in the desert heat. 

Hitch tugs on Tully's sleeve, for all the world like he's a grade schooler clinging to his mother's skirt. "Where's -- everything?" he whispers. 

Tully chews on his lower lip, absentmindedly turning his hand to catch Hitch by the wrist. He doesn't chide Hitch for keeping his voice low, despite the fact that there aren't any threats around: they had left a bustling camp three hours ago, and returned to this horrible emptiness three minutes ago. There's something about the situation that makes Tully's skin crawl.

"Let's get back to the jeep," Tully says, replying a beat too late. "Refill the gas and check the map."

The map in question is a crude thing, hand-drawn by Moffitt last week. Currently it's tucked into Tully's shirt pocket, but frankly he doesn't want to get caught up in triangulating their position in the middle of this creepy place. But he can't help reaching up to touch it, reassuring himself that it's still there. 

Hitch grabs a gas can and they hurry back outside the camp border, both periodically throwing glances over their shoulders just in case. The relative safety of the jeep looms in front of them, easing the tightness in Tully's chest. 

"Okay, the map --" Tully closes his mouth with a snap of his teeth. "Hitch?"

Hitch looks up from where he's refilling the gas tank. "What?" Catching sight of how pale Tully has gone beneath his sunburn, he caps the gas and hurries to the passenger seat. "What's wrong?"

Tully smooths out the wrinkles in the map with a hand that doesn't shake at all. No shaking. Absolutely not. He watches Hitch frown at the page, seeing the transition from concern to confusion to fear.

"Tully," Hitch says, voice surprisingly steady, "are you sure that's the map Moffitt gave us?"

"Yeah," Tully confirms. "And you saw it before."

"I did, but," Hitch starts, and trails off. "Tully, the ink on that map isn't supposed to _move_. Run a bit maybe, but it wasn't wet and we didn't get wet and it's all just soaking the bottom of the page --"

"Yeah," Tully repeats, cutting off Hitch's nervous rambling. "We don't have a map. We don't have a camp to head back to. The radio's broke. Want to dig in and spend some time figurin' out a plan?"

"No," Hitch admits, letting out something closer to a breath than a laugh.

"Don't see as we have much choice."

"No, not really."

Tully stretches, working the kinks out of his back. "Get up on the gun. We'll see about finding the direction when the sun moves."

"Okay," Hitch says. "Okay."


End file.
